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Hank Thompson
"Smoke, Smoke, Smoke That Cigarette" lyrics

Smoke, Smoke, Smoke That Cigarette

Now I'm a fellow
With a heart of gold
And the ways of a gentleman
I've been told
Kind of a fellow
That wouldn't even harm a flea

But if me and a certain character met
The guy that invented that cigarette
I'd murder that son of a gun
In the first degree

It ain't cause I don't smoke them myself
And I don't reckon
That it'll hinder your health
I smoked them all my life
And I ain't dead yet

But nicotine slaves are all the same
At a petting party or a poker game
Everything gotta stop
While they have a cigarette

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette
Puff, puff, puff it
Till you smoke yourself to death
Tell Saint Peter at the golden gate
That you hate to make him wait
But you just gotta have another cigarette

In a game of chance
The other night
Old dame fortune
Was doing me right
For the kings and queens
Just kept on coming around

I got a full
And I bet it high
But my bluff didn't work
On a certain guy
He just kept on raising
And laying that money down

He'd raise me
And I'd raise him
I sweated blood
You gotta sink or swim
He finally called
And didn't raise the bet

I said, "Aces full, pal
How about you?"
He said, "I'll tell you
In a minute or two
But right now
I just gotta have myself a cigarette"

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette
Puff, puff, puff it
Till you smoke yourself to death
Tell Saint Peter at the golden gate
That you hate to make him wait
But you just gotta have another cigarette

The other night
I had a date
With the cutest little girl
Beneath fifty states
One of them high-bred, uptown
Fancy little dames

She said she loved me
And it seemd to me
That everything was about
Like it ought to be
So hand in hand we strolled
Down lovers lane

She was, oh, so far
From a chunk of ice
And our smooching party
Was going real nice
So help me, Hannah
I think I'd a been there yet

I gave her a kiss
Little squeeze
She said, "Hank
Excuse me please
But I just gotta have myself
A filter cigarette"

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette
Puff, puff, puff it
Till you smoke yourself to death
Tell Saint Peter at the golden gate
That you hate to make him wait
But you just gotta have another cigarette
You gotta have another cigarette